


My hero

by Wanu



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Character Study, English isn't my first language so sue me, Gen, If Donald disappeared instead of Della, Lost Twin Au, i think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-20
Updated: 2018-03-20
Packaged: 2019-04-05 02:06:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14033805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wanu/pseuds/Wanu
Summary: When Della was a child, all she wanted was to be a hero.Too bad it took the loss of her brother to realise she couldn't be further away from one.





	My hero

**Author's Note:**

> The Lost Twin AU belongs to donaldtheduckdad.  
> Check their tumblr if your interested to see some wonderful Ducktales fanart  
> Oneshot

_“You are my hero”_

A long time ago, when the worries and the pressures of the adulthood were far away from her mind, Della Duck wanted nothing more than become a hero. Someone like her Mama, who had single-handedly chase away an entire army, or like Uncle Scrooge who wasn’t only the coolest uncle in the world but also knew how to get out of every kind of trouble there was.

Like every big hero, Della had started from small things. Tracking down the stolen lunch money, saving the toys stuck on the trees, defending others from the bullies, trying to talk the teachers out of giving them detention after the followed fight…

It hadn’t been easy. Honestly, Della’s actions had caused problems more often than solved them, but no matter how badly she screw up, there had always been one person who had believed in her and her dream.

_“You are my hero”_

Donald had been the first one to saying that to her, after one really bad day when she had hidden under the bile of blankets, never repeating those four words again. But Della knew he had never stopped believing his claim to be nothing but true.

(Sometimes when she escaped the dreamless night to the deck of the houseboat Donald had bought all those years ago, Della swore she could still hear the wind whisper that same sentence in her ears with the voice that reminded her of her brother)

It wasn’t until after Uncle Scrooge agreed to take them to his adventures with him, the others started to see Della, the daring adventurer, the flying prodigy, the heiress of clan McDuck, as a hero.

And she loved it! No matter where she went the people knew her name, the way how kids (and sometimes adults) looked at her when she passed them on the street, their eyes full of awe and admiration, not even mentioning the extra attention she got from the young men (and ladies) she met in bars and taverns, much to her brother and uncle’s great grief and annoyance.

And maybe they had had a good reason to be worried of her endless line of admirers. After all, she had ended up having triplets at quite young age. Not that she had seen it as a problem. Finding out she would be a mother had made Della happier than ever before and, in few year – she had been so sure of it – she would be the greatest hero in the eyes of three little boys, just like Della’s own mother had been to her.

(Oh, if only she had known…)

But it all had crushed down after Donald… had disappeared from her life. Before she even realised what was happening, she and Uncle Scrooge weren’t able to talk anymore without starting a shouting match and she was struggling to keep the CPS from taking her babies away from her. She was angry to the world and filled with grief and quilt because of the loss of someone she had shared her entire life with from the moment of her birth and who was supposed to be there till the very end.

And with all that pain came a realisation.

Della Duck was not a hero.

She never was and never would.

Donald, her brother, her twin, had been the hero. And yet, no one, not even her, had been able to see it.

In the eyes of the world Donald Duck had always been the evil twin, the coward with clan McDuck’s bad temper, but now Della’s eyes were opened to the truth.

Don had always been much, much more than the person the world had wanted him to be.

When they had been kids, he had always been there to catch her, hovered near every single fight Della had started, tripping and distracting the bullies whenever it seemed that she would get hurt, still giving all the glory of the victory to her.

And when the adventures had started… Donald almost never wanted to go, but he still had followed her to the end of the world and back. She called help, he came. She was about to get hurt, he took the hit and blamed his bad luck and clumsy legs when Scrooge and Della were smart enough to scowl him from his recklessness.

(Yet, Della and Scrooge had treated him more often as a tool or pack animal than a person they loved. A crime that kept haunting Della in her nightmares again and again, making her witness every single way they had made her brother suffer. Making her realise how many times they had almost killed him without even giving it a second though.)

And it wasn’t just his family who Donald had protected. When Della and Scrooge had blindly ran after yet another treasure, Donald had stayed a step or two behind, making sure no one got hurt because of traps and hexes they triggered on their way, saving more lives than Della ever could.

Yet no one had never seen what he did and how much good Donald had created. Not the world, nor Scrooge, nor Della… Not even Donald himself. A realisation that broke Della’s already damaged heart.

And from that realisation, a decision was born.

She would never be able to undo the mistakes of her past, but there was still time to make sure that the true hero would be the one who the future would remembered.

(After all, the history was written by the winners, and liked she it or not, when it came to two of them; Della was the winner of the oldest game of them all)

So, her boys grew up hearing tales of how amazing and selfless person their Uncle Donald had been. How he had worked harder than anyone else because of the bad luck that followed his every step, -just like the fortune followed their Uncle Gladstone- never giving up, even after the world had literally thrown its worst at his face.

Della even tried her best to teach them everything Donald had dreamed to teach to his nephews. She took them fishing, taught them how to sail and survive on the sea. She enrolled them every single year on different first-aid and survival courses so they would know how to take care of others, just like Donald had. Della even encouraged them to learn how to speak Spanish or Portuguese, the two languages Donald had fallen in love with during his years in navy.

(She had never found out why though. Neither did she know who kept sending those postcards to her on the day of Donald’s disappearance, filled with the praises of her brother’s greatness and how they missed their “lost caballero”. Needless to say, Della saved them all.)

Of course, no matter how hard she tried, Della could never replace her brother and the great influence he would have had on her sons. Dewey grew up to be reckless like she had been at her youth, Louie was constantly seeking wealth and Huey kept questioned his own worth. Still, Della could not stop seeing her brother in her sons: Louie was clever like Don, Dewey had his brave heart and Huey had the same caring soul.

(And temper. Something that her eldest tried very hard to control, especially after witnessing Della to break up in tears after his first shouting fit that had been almost identical with the ones Donald used to have.)

And when Huey one day returned from school with essay titled as “My hero” and Della saw her brother’s name scrawled at the end of the first row, she knew there was at least one thing in her life she had done right.

The life they lived was hard, but good. And if Della ever dreamed of the thrill and adventures of the past, those thoughts were quickly pushed away and forgotten. But then Uncle Scrooge had returned into her life, and with him came the ghosts of the past and the little girl who had grown up hearing stories about that misguided, blind woman Della had tried to forget.

“You are my hero” the little girl told her, her eyes full of admiration and delight. A look that Della had once loved more than anything, but now hated since there was nothing she deserved less. Behind her back, she felt the burning gazes of her sons, who without doubt had heard some wild claims from the girl’s mouth. They tried to see that woman in their always so careful and protective mother. The _safe-mom_ , that was the word they liked to call her sometimes. A title Della carried with pride.

But this girl…. This Webby… She was just like she had once been. A dreamer who could only think about adventure and the glory the world could offer, never realizing that every act had its consciences.

She was still so young, though. Young enough for Della to safe her from the heartbreak she had suffered when the reality had been thrown on her face.

“Thank you, Webby” Della heard herself to say, the charming smile she hadn’t used for so many years returning, even though all she wanted was to run away and hide from the girl’s glimmering eyes. “How about we go sit on the sofa and talk about the stories Scrooge has told you? He has a bad habit to exaggerate things. And maybe I can even tell you and boys some new ones.”

She started to lead the excited girl and her still suspicious sons towards the one of the Manor’s many drawing rooms, past Scrooge who was looking at her with weird look in his eyes.

Della answered is gaze with cold stare. “Maybe we can start with the one about the greatest hero this family has ever had. But I’m sure you all know already who I’m talking about” she said, her eyes challenging the old duck to look away.

Her sons groaned a little, rolling their eyes but they were still smiling, happy to hear more about the man they only knew from her stories, who they would have deserved to know. Webby though, her head tilted in confusion, making something dark to twist inside Della’s stomach.

“Uncle Donald”

(Scrooge winced and turned his head away. But Della didn’t bitty him. He had tried to hide her brother’s existence from his life. Forget him. He deserved every stab in his heart her Donald’s name caused.)

“Ah, yes.” Della smiled fondly, following the kids out of the room. “Donald Duck. My hero”

If only she had told it to him when she had a chance.

**Author's Note:**

> So what do you think?


End file.
